A trip to Parris Island earlier this month taught me more about the Marines than I ever would have hoped to learn otherwise. It also reinforced something I guess I've always known about myself: I was never meant to be a Marine.
I was there to cover a Marine-sponsored trip in which 60 educators from the Charleston and Detroit recruiting areas got to see what life is like for the thousands of recruits who become Marines each year. The trip took place April 5-8.
Granted, our four-day experience was nothing compared to the 12 weeks of training that recruits go through, but we got to see some of it, from the famous yellow footprints where recruits meet drill instructors for the first time, to the Crucible, a grueling 54-hour exercise that a recruit must finish in order to earn the right to be called a Marine.
The Marines with us were very excited to have us experience what it's like standing on those footprints, which are painted on the pavement outside the receiving center on the base. They're where recruits stand in formation for the first time, still in their street clothes after first arriving on a bus in the middle of the night.
When I say recruits meet the drill instructors, I mean the instructors yell at the recruits until they are confused, and sometimes questioning their decision to join up at all. Plus, it just scares the heck out of them, we were told.
"There will be a real-life drill instructor assigned to you and they will yell at you," Capt. Eric Albright, executive officer for Recruiting Station Charleston, told the teachers and me. "But you will like it, I promise."
It was easy enough for us to like it; we got to leave in a couple days. But I can only imagine what it must be like for recruits, knowing they're going to be yelled at for the next 12 weeks. I do not envy them.
The drill instructors, we learned, yell and scream so much they become hoarse. They sometimes even yell so hard their throats bleed.
We shot rifles, we yelled "aye, sir" and "aye, ma'am." We learned to march in formation.
We also rappelled - some of us more gracefully than others.
Rappelling from a 47-foot tower is no joke. When they told us they would let us try it, I avoided thinking about my intense fear of heights. I didn't think about it at all until they put the rope in my hands and told me to look over my shoulder and lean back to start rappelling.
I don't know how long I stood there, refusing to move - 20 or 30 minutes perhaps - while Marines and civilians alike tried to reason with me. They wouldn't let me fall, they said. Once I finally worked up the nerve to do it, I couldn't keep my legs out in front of me. Instead I smacked into the wall legs first and struggled to come back up to my feet. Then when I actually started to rappel, my glove got stuck in my gear, rendering me somewhat helpless and dependent on the Marine at the bottom to slow my fall (thank you again, sir).
When I finally got down, I think people were clapping for me. I could have kissed the ground. One man from the group walked over to me and said simply, "Murphy's Law, eh?" Indeed, most everything that can go wrong, did. But did I die? No.
The group was invited to walk through a gas chamber to feel the effects of tear gas. I didn't get to do that, as I was told my contacts would melt into my eyeballs and cause me to go blind. No, thanks.
I don't think I could handle boot camp, but what I learned at Parris Island gave me a better appreciation of those who do.
Just spending 12 weeks on a hot island filled with swamps and biting sand fleas, as a recruit does, is impressive enough without the demanding physical training.
We met Aulton Kohn, a member of the 1st Battalion, 9th Marine Regiment who came to be known as the "Walking Dead" during the Vietnam War.
Kohn was 18 when 34 of his 36-member platoon were killed in an ambush. He and another man survived for 58 days in the jungle before help arrived. They avoided the enemy and lived on monkey meat and berries. He assured us that monkey does not taste like chicken and that we would have done the same if we were in similar circumstances. I'm happy to take his word for it.
Kohn, a recipient of the Purple Heart, now works at a museum on the island.
We got to see many of these men and women graduate training and witness "family day" events, during which recruits see their loved ones for the first time in three months.
There were a lot of hugs and tears. Staff photographer Sam Owens also recounted seeing girlfriends jump into the arms of their men at the first chance they got. It was something to behold.
Another highlight of the trip was watching nine Marines from seven different nations of origin take the oath of allegiance to the United States during their naturalization ceremony. Twelve weeks of training and the agreement to fight in a war if called upon is no easy way to earn American citizenship.
Four days on Parris Island was enough to understand a little more about the pride in someone's eyes when they say they're a Marine.
Reach Lori Kersey at lori.kersey@wvgazettemail.com, 304-348-1240 or follow @LoriKerseyWV on Twitter.